Wednesday, 20th December, 2006

How Did We Manage Without Mobiles?

For the sake of continuity and suspended disbelief, I've replaced the words "Graham" and "he" with "Siobhan" and "she" in this. It makes more sense...

Not being extra-specially close to my parents, I made the decision a few days weeks months ago that rather than spend Christmas this year slightly drunk infront of an electric fire, gagging for a fag and waiting for the onslaught of "Oooh, hasn't she grown?" and "Why is her hair so long?" from assorted members of my mother's congregation, I'd much rather spend it completely sozzled, infront of my real fire, chuffing away to my heart's content, in a frock.

It's not that I dont like my parents, or don't like seeing them, it's just that now they've moved out of my childhood home I find there's little to drag me back over the water to Belfast, and that the few days a year spent over there feel somehow like I'm being extracted from the safety and comfort of (what is now) my normal life.

After all that talk about "masks" the other day, it does — in a way — feel like whenever I go back there, I have to wear one all the time. As if I end up playing a role of sorts — leaving a great big chunk of me amd my personality back here.

Actually, you know, that's really not got anything to do with this little story I'm not sure why I mentioned it.

...

My gran isn't well. Considering she's ninety, actually, she's in bloody good health — it's just she's got extremely bad arthritis, and is going a bit dolally. Not massively so — just enough to forget things, like taking pills and whatnot.

So yesterday, my parents made the trek over to see her, and help the local heath board do an 'assessment' of her, to see what help she needs.

(Some might point out that she's got a grand-daughter living an hour up the road who should most likely help out more )

Anyway

Seeing as they were a few miles doen the M6 from me, they decided it would be nice to meet for lunch. I have no idea why it didn't occur to them to visit as opposed to arranging to meet at a Travelodge a couple of junctions away, but still — it meant I didn't have to deprincess

Now, for one reason or another, my mobile is currently either always turned off, or on silent — although (*fingers crossed*) I might just start using it properly again today. So the whole thing had been arranged by email — 2pm at the restaurant, easy enough.

...

I guess we've all gotten lazy these days. Instead of making meticulous plans, we just throw each other some general directions and pick up the tail end of them on our mobiles as we get closer.

Instead of saying "under the clock tower at 8pm, I'll be the one with the rose", we spend the journey getting somewhere with our mobiles strapped to our ears, having conversations like "hold on, I see you. You've put on weight".

It seemed to me though, to be perfectly natural to wait in the car park for them — especially as I got there early enough. I had no idea what car they were in, so I plonked Ffr in a prominent position and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

By about half-past three, I was starting to get worried. I was certain that they hadn't got lost — the restaurant was right next to Junction 31a, and my father is as analy meticulous about route-planning and maps as I am.

(That's where I get it from )

Every now and again, I got out of the car to have a fag, wondering more and more as the time went by what might be going on: Had there been an accident? Was something up with my gran? Had I got the right restaurant?

If I'd had my mobile with me, it would have been easy. But because I've been using it so little of late, I'd totally forgotten to bring it. So all I could do was wait in the car, thinking to myself that if they hadn't got there by four, I'd trundle back home — slightly disappointed (and hungry) — and call them.

...

Weird, isn't it? How something as seemingly innocuous as a tiny bit of technology has completely changed the way we live — to the point of us not being able to cope when we don't have it.

I wonder at just what point the Internet will be like that — if it's not already.

...

Cold, a bit worried, and hungry, I got out of the car to have another fag.

"Siobhan!"

Over by the door of the restaurant, stood my mother.

Turns out they'd got there ages before I did, and had been happily shovelling pie into their gobs for the past two hours, wondering where the hell I was, completely oblivious to the fact that I was sat outside.

My dad had popped out a couple of times, but (through one of those freak 'coincidence' thingies) none of them had coincided with me stretching my lungs legs.

...

Never mind though I broke the (unwelcome) news that I wasn't coming 'home' for Christmas, and discovered that all's well with the family — Sister in law and Brother are off to Australia today, her being all healthily pregnant; Gran in good state despite the arthritis; Sister most likely a bit gutted that she's going to have to spend Christmas in Belfast without me to relieve the tedium.

For the curious, BTW, I had sausages and mash

Food for a MONTH!

photo

(Booze for a week)

Nah, I just allowed the domain to expire and couldn't be bothered renewing it — so I had to give the trannisaurus a new home

You know, one of these days I must tidy that up a little. It's a bit of a mess in places

And A Merry Fucking Christmas To You Too, [insert my bank here]

You bastards. Making me crawl around on my hands and knees, listening to your patronising staff chastise me whilst reinstating an overdraft that you cancelled because I was ONE SHITTING POUND OVER MY LIMIT. The week BEFORE CHRISTMAS. Because of a mistake YOU MADE.

Cunts.

Sorry, just wanted to get that off my chest.

God, that's tempting.

I'm only angry because they fixed it before I got a chance to shout at them

Town Hall

photo secondlife

Busy tonight

nobody cooks a better Christmas dinner than 'yer mam'

Trust me, plenty of people do

I quite like sprouts, BTW